Racing Hearts
by Marie Noire
Summary: A fill-in scene more for the book "Hannibal" than the movie being that I haven't seen the movie yet! . Yes, the infamous end of that lovely dinner scene... basically an excuse for writing a Hannibal and Clarice love scene. Rated R because it's nothing


Racing Hearts  
By Marie Noire  
  
Author's Note - OK, in case anyone didn't know this already, Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling are not mine! They belong to Thomas Harris and Universal! If they were mine, they'd be doing this all the time. ;)  
  
  
  
  
His breath caught in his throat the second she smiled at him, to be exhaled in a soft tremble when she tipped the glass of Chateau d'Yquem to her skin. For a split second, he could only watch the liquid trickle down her pale flesh, a drop hanging from her nipple in twinkling invitation. He could smell the alcoholic scent of the wine, the scent of her skin cream... but most of all the intoxicating aroma of her own scent... the scent he had filed away in his brain as strictly belonging to Clarice.   
  
Without quite knowing how he progressed from point A to point B, he found himself kneeling by her chair, nuzzling the soft skin with his nose and flicking his tongue out to taste the sweet salt of her, mixed with the wine. He could feel her hands sliding through his hair, down his neck, still strong with the scent of lotion. Her breast pressed against him rhythmically with her breathing and laved it with his tongue more firmly, delighting in the texture and taste of her. He could hear her heartbeat against his face, pumping blood through her veins with increased vigor... his own answered, the normally regular and stubbornly calm beat suddenly hammering in his chest like a drum.   
  
He heard her whispered encouragement as he took her stiff nipple into his mouth, suckling with unexpected gentleness given his dubious past. His shoulders shook, but only just as he stroked the flesh within his mouth with his tongue. The only noises to be heard were the crackling of the fire, Clarice's soft moans, and his labored breathing.  
  
He relished the taste and feel of her sensitive flesh between his lips, the delicious ache that spread through him as it hadn't done in years. His hands moved of their own volition, sliding around her back to unzip her dress, letting it fall to pool around her waist, leaving her naked form there up. He cupped the neglected breast gently with one hand, pulling at the nipple with strong fingers, delighted by the moaned response.  
  
"My room... bed..." was all she could say past her panting breaths as his skilled mouth drove her to madness.  
  
He smiled and left her breasts, admiring the way her right nipple had reddened and swelled due to his mouth's attentions, the way her cheeks had flushed and her eyes were half-closed with pleasure. He swept her up in his arms, carrying her swiftly into her room without bothering to dispose of Krendler's cooling body. Once within the dimly-lit room, he laid her on the bed, on hands and knees over her, his mouth hungry against her neck as her slender fingers worked at his shirtfront, undoing the buttons one by one. Her fingers slid over his chest and ribs, pushing the shirt off of him to scratch her nails lightly over his shoulders and arms. He growled low in his throat as those tempting hands massaged his back, pulling him closer until he settled his weight on her. His teeth grazed over her neck and shoulder, faint raises of pink announcing their passage only to be eased by his tender tongue.  
  
"Hannibal..." he heard his name on her lips, soft and pleading... no longer was he the cold, calculating Dr. Lecter, one of the FBI's top ten Most Wanted... he was only Hannibal... Clarice Starling's lover. A faint, muted groan escaped him as he lifted himself off of her, pulling her gown from her completely, leaving her only in her panties. For a moment he stayed where he was, kneeling over her, gazing down on her with a look of undisguised lust, his blue eyes blazing with predatory hunger. She shivered under his stare and he smiled, his teeth bared in an almost wolfish grin as he leaned back down to her, claiming her mouth roughly, thrusting his tongue between her lips. She tasted of wine and fruit... and the unmistakable taste that matched her scent... Clarice...   
  
He drew his mouth lower, alternating kisses with passes of his tongue and gentle nips over her throat and shoulders, between her breasts. He licked the slight sweat from her soft belly, savoring both the salty taste and the reflexive shivers that wracked her slender frame. His hands trailed over her sides and hips, pulling her panties from her without pausing his assault. Her thighs parted for him instinctively, his hands completing the motion to spread her legs wide enough for him to settle between them.  
  
His breath caught in his throat as he looked down at her; her flesh was pale, a direct contrast to pink, wet flesh between her legs. He licked his lips in anticipation, drawing his fingers over her swollen folds to test her reactions. She gasped and her hips thrust up against him, plainly begging for more.  
  
"Poor little starling..." he whispered, his tone low and hoarse. "So shameless... begging for the touch of a madman... What is it you want from me, Clarice? Tell me."  
  
Quid pro quo, after all.  
  
She took a few steadying breaths, a conscious effort to think clearly. "More... I want more, Hannibal..."  
  
"More?" he repeated, slipping his fingers between her folds ever-so-slightly. "More of what?"  
  
"More... of those fingers. I want you to feel what you're doing to me... I want to feel your lips on me... your tongue... inside of me... please..."  
  
The predatory grin returned, accompanied by a low growl as he slowly slid his fingers into her tight passage, attuning himself to her soft, slick insides. "So wet... so hot..." he was panting now, his heart thudding wildly in his chest as he caught her scent... no longer just the smell of her soaps or lotions... he could smell the moist, smoky scent of her desire.  
  
She tilted her hips against him, urging his fingers deeper, which he gladly obliged. Her hands were tangled in the sheets of the bed, her back arching with abandon as she panted, each harsh breath painted red with a high-pitched moan. He withdrew his fingers, passing his tongue over there tips when he was sure she was watching him, his eyes ravenous. She shivered and moaned in response, an action that drove him forward, leaning his head down to her sex, his tongue passing over her folds, lightly tasting the wetness that clung to every contour. The extreme taste and scent of her desire for him was near overwhelming, low growls and moans ripping themselves from his throat as he pushed his tongue into her passage, tasting every side.  
  
Her hands combed through his hair urgently, her legs tensing, her body writhing under his mouth. He continued his tongue's explorations, lapping at her soaked flesh eagerly, as though she were a particularly fine vintage wine, moaning his own pleasure to her. His tongue slid up her cleft, circling around her sensitive center gently... his fingers once more delving inside of her to stretch and explore the swollen passage. His lips closed over the small bud and he sucked gently, his tongue pressed against it within his mouth.  
  
She all but screamed as a wrenching climax crashed over her, his name a near shriek from her throat as she gave up any pretense of control over to him. He gentled the motions of his fingers and left her center to lay his head on her thigh, panting roughly as she calmed. Her fingers drifted shakily over his hair and neck.   
  
"Hannibal..." she whispered, her hands urging him up. He lifted himself off of her and positioned himself over her on his hands and knees. Never breaking their eye-contact, she quickly undid his trousers and pushed them down along with his underwear, one hand passing over his length with gentle fingers. He gritted his teeth and growled deep in his chest, his sex pulsing in response to her touch.  
  
"Clarice..." he whispered, no trace of his usual condescension in his tone.  
She smiled at him, a hungry look of her own in her eyes. "Quid pro quo... what do you want, Hannibal?"  
  
He smiled at her... little starling was a fast learner under his tutelage. He leaned down until their flesh touched all along their bodies, the tip of his length prodding against her folds meaningfully. "I want to take you... thrust myself inside of you... spill my seed into that soft flesh of yours. Make you writhe and pant for me..."  
  
Her breath caught, her hands and nails trailing over his shoulders and back. "Yes... please..."  
  
He swallowed, her wanton plea nearly ripping his control in half right there. With aching slowness, he pushed his length between her folds, memorizing every gasp of breath and slippery inch that passed over him. Once he was entirely sheathed within her, he let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding, his shoulders shaking violently.   
  
Her flesh pulsed around him, her hips thrusting up against him desperately, her nails raked over his shoulders. "Please... Hannibal... please... no more control..."  
  
That was all it took.  
  
He pulled out and thrust back inside of her with savage force, earning a wanton cry from her. His pace was unmeasured and almost frantic, each heavy breath strained with a growl or audible moan. His teeth grazed over her shoulder and collarbone, careful not to bite down as he yearned to. But at the feel of her climax around him, squeezing him, pulling him deeper still... he gave up all pretense of restraint. He spilled himself within her, the hot liquid mixing with her own desire as his teeth bit into the flesh of her neck... not breaking skin, but hard enough to bruise.  
  
She screamed out for him, wrapping her legs around his waist eagerly, riding out their completion until she collapsed, holding him tightly to her as his hot breath seared her neck. He was panting heavily, his heart pumping madly against her. He kissed the spot on her neck where he had bitten her, soothing the abused flesh with his tongue... almost in apology.  
  
"My Clarice..." he whispered, his tone tender for the first time.  
She nodded, holding him tighter for a moment in a gentle hug, not trusting herself to speak.   
His heartbeat was passionate, rapid...pounding as she's never thought it would in her experience with him.  
  
So... that's what it takes to get Hannibal Lecter's heart going...  
  
  
  
  



End file.
